


Faith

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Legion (2010), Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Supernatural x Legion Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In where Lucifer offers Michael his help. (( Supernatural x Legion Crossover))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is fan-run and this writer is not officially affiliated with the CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., and other official affiliates tied to the TV Show "Supernatural." This user does not claim ownership to the official content of Supernatural and does not seek profit off of the work produced presently. Plagiarism of this current story will not be tolerated and will be reported following AO3's terms of service. The stories, additional characters I create, are mine. This story was not created for profit. Making profit is deemed copyright infringement unless sanctioned by copyright holders (i.e. CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., etc.). Copyright infringement can range from paying a fine to actual jail time. Please do not claim this story as yours! Please do not sell this story! Please do not reproduce this story! All violators will be reported and dealt with severely! 

Michael gave a grunt in dismay as he cupped his side, feeling warm liquid slip past his fingers and dribble on downwards. He was losing the fight. If he wasn’t in fit condition for these people, than he was no help at all. The dirty-blonde tightened his grip on the wound and attempted to hoist himself up, but the pain that slingshot back to him made knees tremble... Pain was something so new to him...and it was something that seemed to never have a true ending.

On his third attempt did an arm curl itself around him and aid him, probably the young boy or the father. About to mumble his thanks, blue eyes turned to find a colder pair staring at him in its wake. The words were dead on his bloodstained lips as he found the last being he was hoping to never meet. When Michael rebelled all he could think of was Lucifer. Lucifer this. Lucifer that. My younger brother this. My younger brother that. But he prayed to nothing... He prayed to the sky, to the earth -- to something different than his Father, and prayed that he wouldn’t run into Lucifer. He didn’t want to hear his brother gloat, and simply go, “I told you so.” He rather not...not now when so much was at stake.

“You’re a long way from home,” the blonde spoke gently and despite the deafening howls outside, Michael heard it clearly. Cool fingers ran across his right brow, calming a gnawing headache before they fell somewhere to the juncture of his neck. There they slipped underneath his clothing, moving until they reached sawed off bone, a look of genuine surprise fluttering on his younger brother’s face. “Michael...did they?”

He shook his head. No, he cut off his own wings.

Michael could feel his body being led towards a chair, body sinking into the hard surface in relief, feeling himself almost give a choked sob when fingers touched sensitive bone. The sound of a chair being scrapped against the tiled floor to him filled his right ear, left ear still ringing from the sound of machine guns giving off rounds of staccato barks. Fingers were pulling his jacket back with utmost care, the older brother willingly allowing his brother to do so. It was when his shirt was pulled over his head did he give a savage hiss in insult, fabric rubbing against raw wounds.

“I told you not to be brave,” Lucifer parroted his own words back, a chuckle painfully leaving the archangel as he turned his back towards the blonde. “I told you to be careful of that Faith,” he sighed, feeling cold fingers touch at his back, searching for frayed nerves to mend and numb. Michael hummed in relief at the touch, feeling flesh begin to properly mend. While he lost his Grace and was disconnected to Heaven, Lucifer had regained his powers through his own ways. Michael always did wonder how...

Lips found the base of where bone and flesh met, and it felt as if he was dunked in the purest of rivers, a relieved sigh raggedly leaving the archangel. “I can help you, Michael,” came the sweet offer, fingers skipping across his bare sides before arms slowly encircled his abdomen, “Just say the word and this...this will end... What you are feeling, I can get rid of it. All the pain...the bloodshed...the death of innocents...” Michael could feel his eyes grow heavy, aware of a frighteningly icy body pressing against him. “I can help you fight this battle, brother.”

Tempting... Everything about his brother oozed out temptation.

“You are aware that you are a bad influence, correct?” came the firm words, body turning in his chair so he could look at the now smiling devil. “So what would be required out of me to get such gracious aid? Sacrifice virgins in your name? Say that you were right all along? Humor me, brother.” The words were sharp and condescending, but Lucifer simply chuckled, hands reaching out to cup his brother’s face. Thumbs wiped away the sweat underneath his eyes, pores seeming to finally breathe and no longer retain the insufferable heat in this diner.

“To understand that humans will never have faith in you like I do.”

The words made his chest ache as a sympathetic expression fell on the blonde’s face, as if his intention was not at all to hurt him. Michael reminded himself that he was dealing with an actor -- a con artist, a being who made his living off of feeding on weaknesses. Lucifer kissed him on the forehead, and he remained silent, feeling his vessel’s body become patched up and anew. He knew that if kept his mouth shut and let Lucifer continue on in actions and words, he would eventually be swayed. He would pull at old memories of a time when they were rather impossible to separate, and if one was to fall the other would extend a hand. To have his brother aid him would be a blessing in disguise and end his troubles altogether, but the cost...the cost was too great.

It meant giving up the very thing that made him revolt in the first place.

“No.”

It left him immediately when his brother drew back, sitting further in his chair. The wounds that were healed, the nerves that were reattached, the aches that were smothered came back in a full blow. Michael doubled over as he felt himself cough blood, feeling his brother’s look of disdain as he stared at the mess. His missing wings screamed in agony, and he gritted his teeth, bright eyes glaring firmly at his younger sibling with wild resolve. Lucifer shook his head and ran a hand through his blonde locks, slowly getting on his feet.

“A hopeless romantic, Michael. That is what you are,” he tutted, leaning forward to thread his fingers through Michael’s short locks, jerking his head upward until his neck burned. Icy air hit his parted mouth before lips gripped his own in a murderous hold, teeth tearing at the cuts on his bottom lip and widening them with deadly accuracy. It was the pouring of salt on all of his wounds. Michael winced as fingers tightened their hold on his hair, but he refused to move or show any sign that he was in turmoil. Lucifer sighed as he broke the kiss while Michael sucked in the oxygen around him sharply, hand sliding from his hair and back onto his cheek.

Lips, coated with his blood, curved into a charming smile that actors will give to the camera, all play and no substance.

“The thing about lacking wings, brother, is that you can’t fly away. I’ll be back.”

And the Devil kept his word.


End file.
